


At Sea

by ThePenguinOfDeath



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Human, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family Drama, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Kissing, M/M, Mental Instability, Post-Death in the Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-06
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 09:16:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2264139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePenguinOfDeath/pseuds/ThePenguinOfDeath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Castiel had to endure a ferry trip, and one time it wasn't so bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Sea

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for my recent inactivity, things have been hectic and there's still a lot to sort out. I'll try and get some more fics up in the next few weeks, but I expect progress to be slow for quite some time.
> 
> This one-shot is rated for references to self-harm and emotional trauma, not explicit sexual activity (sorry).

1.

Castiel hunched over in his seat, trying to disappear into the imitation leather. To his left, Michael was arguing fiercely with a sneering Lucie, Raphael interjecting occasionally with a complaint. To his right, Gabriel was sucking a lollipop like it held the secrets to the universe. Overall, it was loud and oppressing, and the rocking of the ferry wasn’t making things any easier. Castiel squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back his nausea.

One week ago, Castiel had been a perfectly ordinary CE1 student, trying to live up to the reputation of his extensive family. Now, he was one orphan in a sea of orphaned siblings, trying to stay afloat but sinking anyway. His family had been ripped apart, and for an entire week, the arguing hadn’t stopped. Castiel couldn’t blame Lucie for not wanting to live with their terrifying aunt Naomi – if he had the confidence, he would complain too – but right now, all he needed was quiet.

The boat lurched, jolting over a patch of rough sea, and Castiel put his head between his knees.

“Aunt Naomi agreed to take us all in, we should be grateful for her act of kindness.”

“As if I’d want to live with a homophobic tyrant like her. I’m old enough to decide for myself.”

“Lucie, you’re fourteen. You can’t live on your own.”

“Well then, you shouldn’t be dragging me somewhere I’ll just run away from!”

The boat swung sideways again, and Castiel vomited all over Michael’s lap.

 

2.

Castiel stared up at the ferry in trepidation. Memories of the last time he’d been on a ferry swam through his head, and his stomach gave a half-hearted jolt. Worriedly, he pressed his face against the cool glass of the car window and tried not to think about the hours ahead.

Next to him, Naomi’s son Balthazar turned over a page in his book. His glasses were perched precariously low, and every few seconds he reached up to make sure they hadn’t fallen off his face. On his other side, Gabriel was crunching a Snickers bar, staring out the window with a similar expression to Castiel’s.

“Now, children, you all have to behave on the ferry. I want you in my sight at all times. Is that clear?”

“Of course, Aunt Naomi.” Michael, smarmy as ever in a crisp white shirt, smiled at his aunt. Castiel remained silent. For the past year, that had been his only coping policy – not saying a word to his family. In response, Naomi had booked him two sessions a week with a therapist – but at least Mr. Crowley hadn’t reported Castiel for skipping sessions yet.

Sometimes, it felt like a lifetime since Castiel had been back in France with his parents – but other times, it felt like the wound of their death had only just happened.

The car drove slowly onto the ferry, and Castiel concentrated on smoothing out a wrinkle in his trousers. Someone jabbed their finger into his side, and Castiel twisted, glaring at Lucie behind him. She rolled her eyes, gesturing with one red-tipped finger to roll down the window. Her entire face was stony – Castiel didn’t think he’d seen her smile once, except in mockery, whilst they’d been in England.

Wordlessly, he complied, allowing tainted sea air to roll into the car. The scent of salt made his stomach lurch again, and he wondered if he would spend the entire journey hunched over a toilet. Truth be told, that might be better than spending it with his family.

“Castiel, roll that window up! You can’t leave it down on the ferry.” Naomi’s voice was patronising, and Castiel winced as he painstakingly closed the window once more.

The car stopped, packed in between a large pillar and a yellow Ford Fiesta, and Castiel glanced around for the nearest escape route.

He barely made it five minutes before he was puking his guts up once more.

 

3.

The journey back was better, and worse.

It was better because there was no arguing. Everyone was silent, sat around a table in the on-board Starbucks. It was better because Gabriel shared his mints, and sucking them meant that Castiel didn’t get sick. It was better because Naomi didn’t shout, or nag Gabriel about his eating habits, or try and get Castiel to talk to her.

It was worse because Lucie was gone.

Castiel stared at the wrinkled hot chocolate cup in front of him – at nine years old he was deemed too young for coffee – and hoped his sister had run away to a better place.

 

4

Carefully, Castiel cracked open the pill bottle and swallowed a single, blue tablet.

He could see Gabriel watching him carefully. Ever since his hospitalization, his family had all looked at him differently. Gabriel was kind, at least, but his incessant fussing put Castiel permanently on edge. He didn’t want to be fussed over. He just wanted to be left alone.

Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel saw Aunt Naomi on the phone. She was probably talking to Michael, explaining that the ferry had been delayed. Not that Michael would be annoyed about that. Even now that he was in Paris at UPMC, he continued to act the ever-dutiful son. In his eyes, nothing that Naomi could do was ever wrong.

Castiel tucked the pill bottle into his trenchcoat pocket, instantly missing its comforting weight between his fingers. He itched for something to do, anything to take his mind off things. But fourteen was probably too young to fool the bar staff into not asking for ID, even if his chin was starting to get a bit stubbly.

He started to get up, but Raphael fixed him with a stern look so he sat back down again. Most people would have been thrilled with an Oxford acceptance letter – Raphael had just turned into a pompous prat.

Castiel didn’t want to be visiting Michael. He didn’t want to be stuck in a metal box floating across the sea. He certainly didn’t want Gabriel to keep watching him like he was about to snap.

For the first time since the hospital, Castiel wished for his razor.

 

5.

As soon as the car stopped moving, Castiel shoved the door open and ran across the car deck. He could hear Naomi shouting behind him, but no-one gave chase, and Castiel kept going until he reached the ferry’s top deck.

For an entire month, Castiel had put up with Gabriel’s concern and Raphael’s ego. He had listened to Michael boast about his rich fiancé, Mathilde, and tolerated Mathilde’s simpering and complete lack of brains. How she coped at UPMC he couldn’t understand. Perhaps they had met because Michael volunteered to do her work for her.

Now, however, Castiel had dealt with enough. He couldn’t be in the presence of his family any longer. Even Balthazar, who was normally nice, had irritated him by talking about all his ‘conquests’. Castiel had no interest in hearing about flexible female yoga instructors. His sexuality was one of the few areas of his life that he was actually sure about – and Balthazar was one of the few that knew that.

Slipping into the men’s room, Castiel slapped his hands against a sink and peered into the mirror.

His blue eyes were wild, rimmed by bloodshot red from insomnia. His hair, always a birds nest, looked like it had been struck by lightning. His face was deathly pale, shadows like bruises beneath his eyes, and his cheekbones stuck out like he was half starved. He looked like Hell incarnate, or possibly a homeless alcoholic. It was pathetic. Castiel grimaced, and his nails dug into the porcelain.

Someone behind him cleared their throat, and Castiel turned, desperately hoping it wasn’t one of his brothers.

His brain ground to a halt as he came face-to-face with the most striking pair of green eyes.

The boy – or was it man? – gave Cas a reassuring smile, his gorgeous pink lips turning up. His skin was tanned and gorgeous, and his (bow-legged) stance was casual, making Castiel feel at ease.  
“Sorry, I don’t mean to pry – but are you OK, man?”

After years of therapy and medication, one hospital admission, and numerous family members poking their heads into his welfare, that was the moment Cas crumbled.

He spent almost the whole journey crying into the stranger’s shoulder – but for some reason, Dean Winchester stayed.

 

\+ 1.

“Dean, are you sure that we couldn’t just fly?” Castiel glanced around at the other people on the ferry, nerves making his palms sweat.

Dean gave Castiel a soft smile, making his insides feel all gooey. He swallowed.

“Sorry, Cas, you know I don’t fly. Ever. I’d just panic. I would’ve arranged to go by Eurotunnel, but there’s more entertainment on a ferry, and Sam insisted."

Castiel smiled. He knew that Dean would do anything for his little brother.

“Well, if it’s Sam’s fault, I’ll be sure to take it up with him then.”

Dean laughed, the edges of his eyes crinkling. “If you want to sign yourself up for a two-hour discussion on the merits of different types of transportation, be my guest. The little nerd memorises stats on everything. But I think there’s a better way we could be spending our time.”

“Oh?” Castiel lifted one eyebrow, the corners of his mouth twisting. “What’s that then, Dean?”

Dean gave a slow smirk. “You know.”

Openly smiling, Castiel leant in and gave Dean a gentle kiss, enjoying the feel of his lips against his own.

“Yes,” He responded simply, “I do.”


End file.
